Rita's Point Of View
I kept my eyes shut so tight that flashing neon stars danced behind my eyelids. I didn't dare move a single muscle. Frozen completely, holding my breath like a statue, I prayed to whatever higher corporate or spiritual power existed that the mattress would open up and swallow me whole. The sheer, unadulterated embarrassment of my stomach letting out a literal battle cry right when the man was about to kiss me was unbearable.
My skin felt hot enough to melt plastic. Of all the moments for my body to betray me, it had chosen the absolute worst one. This was the kind of humiliation that would haunt me at three in the morning for the rest of my life.
